Lucy Muir (15 page)

“It was for me, wasn’t it, Anne?” Melissa said at last, her tone flat and unemotional.

Anne knew that only the truth would be accepted. “I thought that if I could use the money I planned to use as your dowry for clothes and a better house, you would have a better chance to make a good match. The two thousand pounds made all the difference,” she confessed.

“And you let me think well of Lord Stanton. He is indeed an unprincipled rake.”

Anne found herself defending him. “He did not force me to enter upon the wager. I did that of my own accord.”

“Perhaps. But he made the terms such that he knew you would not refuse,” Melissa said perceptively. “Please forget our conversation of yesterday. I find I was mistaken in my heart. It is Viscount Woolbridge that I love.”

“Melissa, don’t do this,” Anne pleaded. “There is no need. The wager is a joke. Lord Stanton has no intention of holding me to it.”

Melissa looked at her almost pityingly. “I was on the balcony, Anne. I heard what was said.”

“I will not give my permission for you to marry Lord Woolbridge,” Anne said desperately.

“Then I will persuade him to elope to Gretna Green,” Melissa said implacably. “I must retire now, Anne. This evening has been quite fatiguing.”

Melissa left the room, closing the door behind her and leaving Anne alone with her guilt and misery. Anne feared this new Melissa would not waver in her purpose. There must be an answer, some way out of this predicament, but at the moment she could think of none. Anne lay awake most of the night, hearing the many sounds of the London night, but finding no answers in them.

* * * *

Safe in her room, Melissa was unable to control the tears she had been fighting all evening. She dismissed Sanders and threw herself on the bed in a frenzy of weeping. All her hopes and dreams were dead. She could not marry Lieutenant Halcott. She would have to marry Viscount Woolbridge. And she could not even explain to Stephen. She did not blame Anne, for her guardian had done what she had for her sake. It was the irony of it that it should be the cause of her losing the one thing she truly wanted. Melissa cried and cried, not even stopping when Sanders, worried about her mistress, came into the room unbidden. Distressed by Melissa’s uncontrollable grief, she tried to comfort her, but could not. Only when she said she was going to call Anne did Melissa speak, saying “No!” in such a harsh voice that Sanders could not believe it was her gentle Melissa speaking.

Chapter Ten

Anne rose early the next morning despite her lack of sleep, hoping to speak with Melissa at breakfast. Melissa did not come down, however, but had a tray sent up to her room. Frustrated in her plan, Anne knocked on Melissa’s door and asked to speak to her ward, but was told by a frosty Sanders that Melissa was preparing to go to Hookam’s with Miss Spencer, and did not have time to speak with her.

Anne next waited in the drawing room, hoping Melissa would descend early, but not until Miss Spencer arrived did her ward make an appearance, preventing any private conversation. Melissa’s face showed no traces of the tears of the previous night, but Anne saw that her usually charming and unaffected manner was somewhat artificial and strained. Miss Spencer did not appear to notice, being full of the success of Lady Amelia’s coming-out ball the night before.

After Melissa and Miss Spencer left, Anne rang for tea and sat in her favourite chair by the window, still trying to think of a way out of her difficulties. She had been there only a few minutes when Sanders came into the drawing room, her face stern.

“Miss Southwell, I would like to speak to you a moment.”

Anne nodded, afraid she knew what Sanders wished to discuss.

“Something is troubling Melissa greatly,” Sanders said. “She spent most of last night crying. Do you know what it is?”

Anne’s conscience smote her. She had turned out to be an unfit chaperone indeed. Because of her unguarded behaviour, Melissa, instead of happily making plans to marry the man she loved, was preparing to sacrifice herself for her guardian and marry another. It should be the other way around. She should be making sacrifices for Melissa.

“Yes, I know what is troubling Melissa, but there is nothing I can do about it at the moment. Don’t worry, I will think of something soon.”

Sanders looked at Anne sceptically, but realised that she had no intention of being more forthcoming. Well, she had done what she could by letting Miss Southwell know of Melissa’s deep unhappiness. Although she could not totally approve of Miss Southwell, thinking her manners too free for a lady, Sanders knew that she had a strong sense of duty and would do all she could for her ward.

After Sanders left the room, Anne sighed and stared blindly out the window. She wished there were someone she could confide in and ask for advice, but there was no one. Anyone—except perhaps Lord Stanton, and he was the cause of her problems—would be shocked at the breach of etiquette that had gotten her into the situation. For a brief moment, she
did
consider asking Lord Stanton for advice, but when she remembered the scene on the balcony, her anger returned, and she knew she could not.

When Melissa returned from her walk, she found Anne still in the drawing room. Seeing the dark circles under her eyes, Melissa softened enough to speak to her guardian.

“It is truly not so bad, Anne. Lord Woolbridge is a fine man. He is well-favoured, has a good nature and a title. One could not ask for more in a husband,” she said. She saw that Anne was about to reply, and said, “I will discuss it no further. I am determined on my course. There is nothing you can do.” She left the room before Anne could speak.

* * * *

As the week went by and Melissa’s resolve did not waver, Anne began to feel that there
was
nothing she could do. Melissa spent time most days with the viscount, and when the lieutenant called at his usual hour she was rarely home. Viscount Woolbridge, who had begun to think he was losing to his rival, now began to think he had a chance.

That Saturday was the day for which the picnic had been planned. With both Melissa and Lady Amelia planning, it had grown into quite a large outing, and when Saturday morning arrived, four carriages set out, not counting those carrying the servants and comestibles. Anne and Melissa rode in the carriage with Mrs. Halcott, escorted by Lieutenant Halcott and Captain Leslie on horseback.

Captain Leslie had suggested they go north of New Road, where there were open fields and farms with several little streams. It proved to be a delightful spot, and in spite of her worries, Anne began to enjoy herself. It was a beautiful day—the sun shone warmly, and wildflowers bloomed in profusion. As the servants unpacked the hampers, the guests strolled about in pairs or sat in the shade of the beeches, enjoying the quiet and the fresh air. Anne, knowing she was looking well in a walking dress of buttercup yellow muslin with long sleeves of white, a Venetian bonnet of twist and green walking boots, walked happily with Captain Leslie. But the captain unwittingly destroyed her good mood.

“I wonder if Miss Amberly knows how unhappy she is making Halcott,” he said as they paused beneath a beech.

Anne followed his gaze to where Melissa, charming in a print muslin frock and straw bonnet trimmed with flowers, sat with Lord Woolbridge. Nearby, Lieutenant Halcott sat with Lady Amelia. He was paying polite attention to his partner, but every so often he would direct a bewildered look at Melissa and the viscount.

Anne sighed tiredly, and Captain Leslie looked at her with concern. “I am sorry, I did not mean to sound critical of your cousin. It is just that I cannot help noticing a change in Miss Amberly’s attitude towards Lieutenant Halcott this past week. Lieutenant Halcott is my friend, and I would help him if I could.”

“I understand, Captain Leslie, but I would prefer not to discuss it,” Anne responded almost rudely.

Captain Leslie politely changed the subject, but Anne’s earlier enjoyment in the outing was gone. She had thought her imprudent wager endangered only herself, but she now saw how short-sighted she had been. It was making several people miserable. She even felt it in her heart to be sorry for Lady Conliffe. She must have thought she was going to regain her place in the viscount’s affections until this past week.

The servants had finished setting out the food, and she and Captain Leslie walked slowly back to the others. The captain selected a comfortable spot on a rug beneath the shade of one of the beeches and offered to fill a plate for Anne. While Anne waited for him to return, she unfurled her parasol and, holding it so the long green fringe shaded her eyes, observed Melissa while appearing to be viewing the rural scene.

Melissa and Lady Amelia sat alone, the viscount and Lieutenant Halcott having also gone to fill plates for their partners. Lady Amelia appeared to be absorbed in picking daisies and weaving a chain out of them. Melissa, unaware that she was being watched, had lost the bright fixed smile she had worn all morning, and a bleakness had appeared on her face, incongruous with her youthful complexion. Anne saw Melissa’s chest heave with a sigh, and her eyes shifted to where Lieutenant Halcott stood waiting for the viscount to finish filling Melissa’s plate before returning to Lady Amelia. Melissa’s bleak expression changed to one of sorrow and longing, and she dropped her gaze to the ground. Listlessly she began to follow Lady Amelia’s example and weave a daisy chain.

Guilt weighed more heavily than ever on Anne, and she looked away. Her sweet young cousin should not have had to face the unpleasant realities of life so soon, and it was her fault that she had. One of Melissa’s sweet nature and delicate beauty was born to be protected from the harshness of the world. Anne had to admire the strength of character that had been hidden under the soft sweetness of Melissa’s personality, but it should not have been called forth in the manner it had.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the return of Captain Leslie, who, aware of Anne’s usually hearty appetite, had filled a plate with the choicest delicacies. Anne smiled and thanked him as she took the plate but looked at it with dismay. With misery and guilt constricting her throat and stomach, how was she going to be able to eat one bite, much less a whole plate of cold pigeon pie, boiled ham, bread, cheese puffs and a tart?

“Miss Southwell, are you feeling quite the thing?” Captain Leslie asked with concern as he held a glass of lemonade out to her.

“I am quite well, Captain Leslie,” Anne said with a smile, furling her parasol and laying it down beside her before taking the lemonade. “I am only trying to decide what to sample first.”

She picked up a puff and forced herself to bite into it. She must not allow her feelings to spoil the day for the others. Captain Leslie seemed reassured and went back to fill a plate for himself. When he returned, Anne had begun to make inroads on her plate, washing the food down with quantities of lemonade. She and Captain Leslie were joined by some of the other guests, and somehow Anne managed to laugh, talk and consume most of her food. But she was relieved when the others had eaten their fill and suggested they stroll down to the placid stream that meandered through the fields.

Anne’s relief was short-lived, however, for they were soon joined by Lady Amelia and Lieutenant Halcott, and she was forced to observe Lieutenant Halcott’s painful efforts to be attentive to Lady Amelia, although she could see his thoughts were elsewhere. Miss Spencer and her brother seemed to be the only ones behaving naturally, and Anne tried to enter into Miss Spencer’s enthusiasm over the cowslips, the furze in full bloom and other country delights. She was grateful when the shadows began to lengthen and the company made its way back to the carriages, and congratulated herself on having gotten through a difficult day.

Anne’s worst time of the day was yet to come, however. Melissa rode home with the viscount, leaving Anne to ride alone in the carriage with Mrs. Halcott. Mrs. Halcott took advantage of their solitude to question her about Melissa.

“My dear, if you know what has caused the coolness between my son and Melissa, please tell me so that I may make it right. It breaks my heart to see Stephen so downtrodden.”

She stopped for a moment, then continued. “I never spoke to you of it before, Anne, but Colonel Halcott and I were very pleased at the way the wind was blowing. I know you had hopes of Melissa marrying a title, and to be sure she could have, but although he hasn’t a title, Stephen is of gentle blood and would make her a good husband,” she finished with pride.

Anne found herself in the position of having to prevaricate to her good friend and sponsor. She could only assure Mrs. Halcott that she promoted the match, too, and promise to do what she could to mend the rift. And as they rode home the rest of the way in silence, it came to her that perhaps there
was
one thing she could do if she had to.

* * * *

Lord Stanton was as mystified as the rest of Society by the sudden unmistakable preference of Melissa for Lord Woolbridge. The betting at White’s, which had strongly favoured the Incomparable Miss A. making a match with Lieutenant H. now shifted to favour Viscount W. Anne had been the only one who had not seen Miss Amberly’s preference for the lieutenant. What was behind the change? Could Anne have told Melissa of the wager? She had been very angry that day. He quickly rejected the idea. No, she would not do anything so unkind. He determined to question Anne about the situation, and went to enlist the aid of his sister, who was holding a rout party that evening to which Anne and her ward had been invited.

As he handed his cane and top hat to Lady Brookfield’s footman, his sister came into the hall on her way out, clad in a blue jaconet walking dress and fawn-coloured pelisse.

“Could I have a word with you before you leave, Caroline? It is important.”

Lady Brookfield looked at her brother assessingly. “Yes, I was only on my way to the milliner’s. Come with me,” she said, dismissing her maid and leading the way into a small salon.

“What is it, Harry?” she asked, seating herself on a delicate Hepplewhite chair with a heart-shaped back.